you dont know bout it
Tell me what you know about this
Tell me what you know about that
Tell me what you know about risk
What you know about getting back
Them niggas don't live what they rap
Them boys ain't been in no trap
Them niggas don't know about this
Them boys don't know about that
Ay, you don't know bout it
You don't know bout it
You don't know bout it
Tell me what you know about that
You don't know nothing
You don't know nothing
You don't know nothing
Tell me what you know about that
Hold up, stop the shit
That's word to that red sign
Don't think cause I'm laid up
I won't flatline your red line
My niggas tuck guns in
Catch you slipping, it's bedtime
Gotta kill you by a certain time
Now, that's what I call a deadline
Deadline, deadline
Can't call it like a dead line
When they hit little homie up
I was in Miami getting fed prime
Got my bitch in the studio
She the best Supahead-line
Call her my little ghostwriter
She help me come with them headlines
Headlines, headlines
Put your name in them headlines
Niggas beefing, that's cool
Just give me mine with some red wine
Shouts out to my big homie
When he left, he said grind
My nigga moved so much Britney Spears
They gave that boy Kevin Fed time
Fed time, Fed time, locked down all day
Real nigga by myself, Kevin Hart with it all day
You ever go night-night, nigga
Don't look at that white light, nigga
I'm back on this dark shit
If you scared, get a night light, nigga
Crushing all of these bitches
Stunting out on these niggas
Fifty racks in my pocket
On the way to go get it
Northside, yeah, we popping
I was never scared of no nigga
Catch me deep down in that jungle
With them lions, snakes, and gorillas
I be riding round in four-wheelers
Drop-tops with no ceilings
And I ain't talking about Tunechi, bitch
Ball hard but can't hoop shit
Thank God for this lobster tail
Cause jail cells it was tuna fish
They locked me down in that hellhole
On state row like a lunatic
Tell me what you know about this
Tell me what you know about that
Tell me what you know about bricks
Thirty two racks, I'll get you that stamp
Them boys ain't toting no straps
Them boys ain't up in that trap
Them niggas ain't bout that life
Tell you bout that white and I'm like, "Where it's at?", nigga